Ойкумена / Oikumena: Глава 6

Chapter 6. And they moved on...

Camrad_RIP 23.05.23 в 18:39

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Camrad_RIP 23.05.23 в 18:41

In Lena's mind, dashing men in dangerous lands were supposed to gallop on brisk horses, flashing their weapons. But the locals had only one horse, though well-groomed in appearance. It was not much chased and was not allowed to chew grass from under its hooves. The horse was given fodder from a sack. She thinks oats. The wagon was filled with crudely chipped crates and wicker baskets, bundles of torches, some other tackle, on top of which was placed a carelessly thrown roach, on which in turn lay a wounded man with a broken leg. The wagon was ruled by a fat man in a hat, who looked like a local sorcerer. Or rather, he sat with an important look on the fetlock, for the horse mostly followed the leader. Everyone else stomped on foot and seemed to expect the same from Lena as a matter of course. It was hard to walk, her legs ached and her calves felt like wood, but the girl did not complain, reasoning that for now it was walking, and then we would see.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 16:53

As she did so, she glanced surreptitiously at her traveling companions, and they looked at her quite openly, talking softly in their avian language. Except for the brunette with the awl on her pole, the glances were rather curious. With a slight hint of suspicion, but more out of habit than a concrete complaint. But the dark-haired warrior was squinting just as angrily, and each time Lena got a chill. In the woman's gaze she could clearly read that if it were up to her will, the sharpened awl would have gone to work long ago.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 16:56

The sun was climbing up in the sky. The fellow travelers smelled tangible, as they should smell of people who hadn't washed or removed their clothes, or even their armor, in at least three or four days. The leather of the armor the warrior woman was wearing creaked. Every once in a while, there was a soft clang of metal. The ghoul, mouth half-open, still had his sword, resting it on his shoulder, pointing up and supporting it by the hilt. The blade clattered softly against his chainmail, and the sound was as unpleasant to the ear as the sound of a needle against the glass. Up close, the fighter seemed even scarier but no longer weak-minded. His gaze was not blank but rather unfocused. He's looking at everything around him at once like a wide-angle lens.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 16:59

Suddenly the ghoul with the sword turned to Lena. The girl did not understand a word he said again and shook her head with a resigned expression. But she noted this time the words sounded a little different, with an elongated "r" and softened vowels. It seemed to be a different dialect or even a language but from the same group. And it seems the warrior couldn't breathe through his nose, which explains his perpetually open mouth. The swordsman shook his head with a rather sympathetic look and made two more attempts. Each time the phrase sounded short and similar to the previous ones, but the pronunciation and structure of the words changed. Convinced of the utter futility of his efforts, the ghoul shrugged and seemed to forget about his companion.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:05

Lena continued to evaluate her "colleagues".

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:06

Fact she was caught up in some medieval age, and not earthly, Elena decided to consider it axiomatic. That is, for the time being, it did not require proof. But for a medieval, as she imagined the era to be, the occasional companions still looked both too poor and too well-groomed. They were poorly equipped and armed; only one even had a sword, and the others were armed with spears, daggers, and axes. Another pair of short axes, in addition to the axe at the bearded man's belt, the girl noticed in the cart. It must be said, however, that the gear and clothing looked like things that had been meticulously cared for, and where there were rags (there were many), everything bore the marks of careful, though crude, mending. And no lice, as far as Elena could tell.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:14

The whole gang was wearing short, low-heeled boots of the same pattern and seemingly without any division between left and right. The pants were almost the usual style, only looser, with no pockets, tucked into the shoes. In general, nothing resembled the culottes or huge trousers that Lena remembered from books. But the pants had codpieces, which looked like panties that had been pulled right over the pants. Everyone had codpieces, even the woman with the spear. It was probably not only a utilitarian article of clothing but also a sign of belonging to something, a symbol of a certain status.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:16

No one offered food or drink, and Lena decided she had to ask somehow, but when she had already turned to the ghoul, something changed. The bearded leader got worried and moved quickly forward, keeping his hand on the axe at his belt. He bent down and smoothed the grass with his hand, got up, and zigzagged forward like an angry cat in the morning. There was a tangible whiff of suspicion and unease in the gang.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:18

The fat "Gandalf" on the cart stood at the edge of the cart and gave a quick chant, after which the group immediately bristled with iron on all sides. The fat man in the hat and mantle dived into the cart and took out of his chest a round bottle with a thick cork filled with either wax or greasy resin. It was the same bottle that he had not let Elena open earlier. Inside was a strange yellow-green substance that looked like a viscous liquid and a thick mist at the same time.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:23

Now Lena noticed that something had changed in the world around her. Not for the better. For a few moments, she didn't understand what had happened. The sun was still shining dimly, a few sadly waving clouds appeared in the sky, and the plain hadn't changed either... Though, no, now that the gang was visibly nervous, and Elena's senses were heightened, spurred on by thirst and hunger, the girl finally noticed something quite strange. Beyond all the local "strangeness".

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:23

It was rather difficult to describe due to the absence of any analogs from the usual life. The grass and the sparse fallen leaves are blown by the wind from distant trees seemed ordinary at first glance. At a second glance, too. But if you looked at them at a certain angle to the sun and squinted, it seemed that the ghost of winter had peeked into the world. The earth and grass played with a subtle silvery glow. It was as if two photographs had been photoshopped together, one showing the usual summer landscape and the other leaving only the effect of the frost sparkling in the sun. Therefore, the mind simply crossed out the already subtle image, refusing to believe in the frost in the middle, if not of summer, at least in the early warm autumn.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:30

And it seemed to Lena that she had seen something like that a long time ago. But at that time, this very "something" seemed very harmless, one might say, childish. And now...

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:31

One look at the gang was enough to realize that there was no sign of childishness here. The serious, very imposing, and dangerous-looking men were clearly afraid. Not fidgetily, but, you could say, busily, in full readiness to fight to the death. But they were afraid.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:32

The horse got nervous, too. It probably wasn't a good turn, but the girl didn't know what else to call the animal's reaction. The animal snorted, moved its ears restlessly, and stepped over its feet several times as if it couldn't wait to get as far away from here as possible. The sorcerer, not letting go of the ball of green slop, muttered a short gibberish and made a strange gesture with his free hand as if crossing the animal between the ears. The horse calmed down a little.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:33

The bearded man, whose name, as far as the girl understood, was "Sateli," or something similar, returned to the cart. He put his hand into his waist bag and pulled out a small metal plate, judging by the dull luster, copper or brass. A hole was drilled into the round plate, and the ringleader stared into it, surveying his surroundings while keeping his other hand on the axe. There was complete silence, only the ubiquitous breeze rustling the grass.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:34

And it seemed to rustle peculiarly, louder than it should...

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:39

"Damhain-allaidh!" threw "Sateli" into the void, short and angry.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:40

Whatever these words meant, they didn't put the gang in a good mood. On the contrary, it added to the enthusiasm. Everyone seemed to move at once, to start acting, seemingly in disarray, but actually according to the same plan. It was as if all this was not new to them.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:40

The girl, with her angry face, gripped the horse firmly under the bridles (or rather, the straps that came from the intricate harness on the muzzle, which Lena thought was what they called "bridles"). She pulled to the side, pulling steeply to the side. Ghoul sucked in the air loudly, gripping his sword with both hands. Each of the gang either helped turn the cart around or pushed it, or showed their readiness to defend themselves.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:42

The bearded man caught Elena's perplexed and worried look, hummed, and handed her the plate, pointing his finger in the direction she should have been looking. In general, judging by the changed face of the man with pigtails and an axe, the gang had avoided very big trouble. The bearded man's hard, rugged face was clearly relieved, and he didn't even try to hide it.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:42

It turned out that the plate acted as a simple optical device. I think they're called "diopters," or maybe not. The image in the hole wasn't getting any closer, but it was getting a little clearer, and that was probably useful on a plain like this. But the girl still didn't understand what had happened. Where the bearded man had pointed, she could see only two stones, short, about the waist height of a man. Only these were not as wide and flat as many of the others in the area but as if they were growing out of the ground, long and rather narrow. There was a third, a little further away, about the size of a resting horse.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:44

But something scared the local killers...

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:44

Lena blinked, and then everything shifted. Like pictures of black and white illusions, where you can see a vase or two symmetrical faces, depending on the point of perception.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:45

Those were not stones. Two men, seemingly in heavy, angular armor, were either kneeling or sitting. The outlines of their bodies were barely visible beneath the dense robes, which looked like many folded light curtains one thread thick. And the rock, which looked like a horse, was a horse. Only not a resting one, but a dead one. With the diopter, you could see the bones yellowing through the dried flesh.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:47

Something moved next to the dead animal, either behind it or on it... Or in the corpse... It was as if someone had waved the dried branches.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:48

Lena dropped the diopter, stepped back, and literally jumped away, but managed to stifle the cry of unthinking, blind terror bursting from her throat. Just in time. She could tell by the icy stare "Satelie" gave her and by the hand that jerked the axe halfway out from under his belt that the bandleader would kill on sight if only she could keep the voice down. Not wasting a second trying to calm her down.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:51

As the girl searched the grass for the fallen plate with trembling fingers, all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place in her head.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:51

Not winter hoarfrost, but a spider's web. A huge field, covered with a spider's web, barely or barely marked at the edges and thickening as it approached the center. Two dead men, braided in an eerie web, surely long dead. And a dead horse, with something lurking in it, with long thin legs like dried twigs. It was alive, waiting, ready to attack.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:52

Lena dropped the diopter twice more before she finally picked it up and handed it to the commander. The chief looked at the girl with disapproval. But at the same time - a strange thing - her reaction seemed to calm him. With what? Why? From these thoughts, her head, already overloaded with events, ached for good.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:56

One way or another, the encounter with the spider terror was behind us. Nothing bad happened anymore. The cart circled a very wide arc around the danger zone and returned to its original path. The gang calmed down perceptibly. Ghoul put his sword back on his shoulder and handed the girl a glass flask with a wooden cork. Just when Lena was about to ask for it herself, by gesture or whatever. Inside turned out to be pale pink wine, very weak. Or water diluted with wine. Either way, it was drinkable.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:58

"Gandalf" threw her a rusk from the cart, which Lena miraculously caught. The rusk was of an angular shape as if it had been pierced around the edges with a chisel, and its appearance alone recalled the definition from an old book - "triple hardening". But to a girl who hadn't eaten in twenty-four hours, had been on her feet for hours, and had lost some blood, it seemed like a gourmet meal.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:59

"Give her some lard, you greedy fatty," Kai remarked.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 18:00

"Lard costs money," muttered Bizo, not intending to untie the bundle of honey and lard before the evening halted. "You've got to harness that mare. She's stomping along like she ain't tired."

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 18:01

The swordsman grimaced; he could see that the redheaded "guest" was exhausted and could hardly move her legs. And she was gnawing on a triple hardened rusk from the Old Ambar with such a crunch as if a cementavr had crawled out of its lair to sharpen its fangs on old bones. But Kai remained silent, as did everyone else. The incident was not an easy one; it required careful thought.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 18:03

After her encounter with the Gray Shadow - fortunately a successful one - it was finally clear that the redhead was an ordinary person, albeit a strange one, not of this world. Everyone is afraid of the Greys, even the hunters who catch the nightmarish creatures and sell them to the weaving manufactories. It pays only gold for spider silk, so the risk is worth the sacrifice. But it was not for nothing that the corralmen nicknamed the Shadows "quarters." A quarter of a good squad of thirty or forty fighters that is how many hunters you usually have to bury after a successful hunt (when there is someone to bury). Sometimes more, sometimes less. But on average, one out of every four. Math is a great thing. Kai did not doubt that Santelli had memorized all the landmarks of the Shadow's lair, and when he returned, he would sell them for good money. So we'd each get a few more coins...

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 18:07

The swordsman jerked his head, realizing that his thoughts were pulling him somewhere far away and out of place. Now, what was on his mind... Oh, yeah. Everyone's afraid of Shadows, but the redhead had an unconcealed horror about her. You can't play that, and there's no reason to. And for anyone who's wandered the wastelands, Shadows are scary but understandable and generally familiar. More than that, not too dangerous, to be sure. That is, she is not a witch.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 18:11

//Then who was it? - Kai thought again, glancing at the girl who called herself Hell. A strange, strange maiden with a creepy nickname, the body of a grown woman who never went hungry, and the face of a frightened child, waiting for morning to come and the buka to hide back in the closet. The swordsman realized he was experiencing some confusion. He could usually tell unmistakably what trade any traveler he met was engaged in. The look, the hands, and the build all read like an open book to someone who knew letters and words. And all of Kai's life experiences told him that before him was a woman fighter ... who had never picked up a sword in her life. How is that possible...?

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 18:13

Mystery.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 18:13

"The redheaded bitch," Shena said quietly, as if under her own nose, but everyone could hear her words in the thick afternoon air.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 18:43

Soon they stopped for a halt. The sorcerer walked around the camp in a wide circle and was clearly doing something magical, breaking twigs and scratching marks directly on the ground with a bone knife. No brushwood was gathered, though it was possible to cut down a few nearby trees. They used what looked like yellowish laminated charcoal mixed with mica as fuel. Probably some kind of flammable shale; a whole basket of it was found in the cart, under the sacks.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 18:53

Soon the smoke was up, and a pot of water was boiling on the fire. The cauldron was ceramic, with lugs inside, so it was suspended from an ordinary string without fear it would burn out. The sorcerer generously poured some herbs into the cauldron.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 19:12

Not knowing where to put herself, Lena sat down by the cartwheel. She desperately wanted to bathe. A nice warm shower, or better yet, a bubble bath. Lots of foam! Lying in hot water for an hour, listening to Candy Dulfer's saxophone. And on top of that, some Clapton...

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 19:13

In the meantime, the wounded man, who had fallen into oblivion after the morning disinfection session, was dragged out of the cart and had not come out of it to this moment. Without mending, they changed his wet pants. The manners of the gang seemed to be simple.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 19:16

The locals' outerwear was as "European" as it could be in a place where they probably didn't even know such a word. But the underwear (or should she say "underpants" or pants...?) was more like Japanese fundoshi underwear. Lena had seen them a long time ago in Kurosawa's Seven Samurai. A long strip of fabric that was tied in a clever way, reminiscent of a cross between a loincloth and a g-string. Lena automatically imagined what such "panties" must look like on a strict dark-haired girl, whose name was "Sheena" (fractioning the second vowel in the stretch), with her quite modern, if slightly uneven, short hairstyle "garçon". It came out funny. However, in the direction of the angry brunette, Lena tried not to even look at unnecessary times. She seemed too angry and unfriendly.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 19:18

The swelling was visibly gone, and the wound also looked relatively well. At least there was no sign of infection. The sorcerer, who was examining the patient, seemed moderately pleased on the one hand and puzzled on the other. It was as if the dying man had drunk the poison, but instead of dying, he had been miraculously healed. Lena must have looked no less puzzled. In the morning, she had not looked particularly closely at the body of the wounded man. She had enough other worries. Now she saw more and in a calmer atmosphere. Well, the girl could have sworn that a little above the poor man's knee was a familiar scar of a distinctive shape. A smallpox graft, only not in an oval "patch," but longer, like a scar from a cut.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 19:22

The wounded lad, meanwhile, had regained consciousness and even said something in a weak voice. They gave him a drink, put a piece of food in his mouth that looked like an oily shiny pita with meat streaks, and then "Gandalf" took a flat bowl, put it on the poor man's chest, and poured some water into it. Lena waited for some kind of magical manipulation, but the fat magician just stared at the surface of the water, wrinkling and curling his lips.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 19:23

When Lena realized what he was doing, she was not even surprised. This world had already presented enough amazing experiences. The girl sighed and began to act much more confidently.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 19:23

"What does it mean?" Santelli asked.

Camrad_RIP 24.05.23 в 17:21